


In Which Alfred is Fauna...

by Aydammair



Category: DCU
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, M/M, fancy clothes, hinted superbats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aydammair/pseuds/Aydammair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...making Dick, Flora, and Damian, Merryweather. </p>
<p>Or Bruce invites Jason to the Annual Gala and Jason has nothing to wear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Alfred is Fauna...

The Annual Wayne Charity Spring Gala promised to be the coup of the social season. What that meant, Jason didn't know, but the society pages seemed certain of it. They did not, however, explain why a gilded invitation had appeared on Jason's kitchen table two days ago. At first he thought it had fallen out of Tim's things, but the envelope had had his name inscribed on it in a familiar calligraphy. For the umpteenth time tonight, Jason's hand rose and brushed against his chest where the invitation lay hidden, tucked safely into an inside pocket, so its gold lettering and embossed seal wouldn't get damaged. With a sigh, he leaned against the side of the building he was standing on and pulled it out. Carefully he unfolded it and stared again at the time, date, generic formal message and location, the Wayne Manor.

"Good reading?" a voice asked behind him. With a yelp he spun around, invitation fluttering from his hands. He grabbed for it, leaning over the edge of the building. He somehow managed to not only use his impressive core strength to keep himself from falling off the building, but to lean back against the building and slide the invitation back into its pocket in the same motion, making, in his opinion, the entire thing look smooth and deliberate. He tilted his head to the side to look at Tim, who was clearly not fooled.

"'Evening," he drawled. Tim's lips twitched in a slight grin. He stepped forward and pressed against Jason's front, leaning in close.

"You're not up to something are you?" he asked lowly. Jason uncrossed his arms and grabbed Tim's hips.

"I'm always up to something," he replied in the same tone. Tim chuckled and leaned the rest of the way in for a kiss. It was deep, but close mouthed. A greeting and a confirmation rather than the start of something. After a moment, Tim stepped back and turned partially to look down at the street below.

"It's been a quiet night," he commented, "I was thinking I might turn in early."

"I have a couple things to check on, but yeah, same," Jason replied. Tim's eyes flickered to the spot on his chest where the invitation was, but he didn't say anything. That was part of what made their relationship work well. When they needed to, they were able to talk about things, but they left each other's business alone.

"My place?" Tim asked. Jason nodded and Tim disappeared over the side of the roof. Jason let out a sigh and went to go find himself some trouble. It probably wasn't a healthy habit, but moving always helped him think.

It wasn't that he though the invitation was a trap, or some kind of peace offering. After many fights, and screaming matches, and a couple of daring rescues, he and Bruce had finally made their peace with each other. Having friends and a real mission, something to focus on had helped Jason chase the rage from his mind. On his part, Bruce had become calmer in recent times, less afraid of himself and the dark. When Jason had once made a comment about it to Dick, on one of their increasingly frequent team-ups, the other had snickered and made a superdick joke that Jason had done his best to forget. 

It was that this invitation meant something. It was an invitation to the Manor. To join the family at their most public event of the year. To be a part of the family again. Learning to live in the same city was different from actually meaning something to each other. This invitation was Bruce's way of extending his hand, wrapped in metaphors and layers and gilt, because Bruce always avoided actually saying what he meant if at all possible. Jason wanted to accept that hand, wanted it so much it terrified him. Taking meant having and having meant losing and losing would kill him, and this time he wouldn't come back.

Jason slipped through the window of Tim's apartment to find the other on the couch, sipping at some coffee and staring at his laptop as always. He looked up at Jason and smiled. Jason took the hint and leaned in for a kiss.

"Hi again," Tim murmured as they broke apart. Fuck, fuck it, Jason thought. He straightened and pulled the invite from his pocket, tossing it on the couch as he strode toward the bedroom. Tim picked it up.

"I was wondering if he had managed to give it to you. I thought I was going to have to steal it and do it myself," he said. Jason paused in the middle of hanging his jacket up in the closet.

"He didn't want to give it to me?" he asked, suddenly wondering if maybe he had misinterpreted the symbol. Then he heard Tim snort.

"Exact opposite, moron. He's terrified you're going to say no," he replied.

"Oh," Jason went quiet as he pulled off the rest of his armor and stashed it away. He slipped on a pair of sweat pants and turned to see Tim lounging in the doorway.

"So?' Tim asked, "Does this mean you're coming?"

Jason glanced down at his sweatpants and then up.

"I mean, I'll have to find something to wear," he said, "Unless black tie has taken on a new meaning in high society."

Tim laughed.

"I would pay good money to see you wear this to the Gala," he said as he approached, sliding a hand up Jason's chest and then down his arm. Jason grinned and hooked his other arm around Tim's waist.

"Could start a fashion trend," he said.

"Or a new surge in divorce rates," Tim retorted. He leaned up for a kiss. Jason closed his eyes and sank into the feeling of being able to hold Tim close like this, a quiet moment just for them.

"Yeah, I'm coming, I'm. Terrified, but" he trailed off and kissed Tim again.

"It's okay. He's terrified too," Tim pulled back enough to reply, "But this time you guys have a family now. And we're immune to your bullshit so."

Jason chuckled.

"You love my bullshit," he teased.

"Mmm hmmm," Tim replied indulgently, his hand slid around to Jason's ass and pulled him in tight, "That's exactly why I'm here."

Jason rocked into him and kissed away the resulting moan.

"You sure?" he asked coyly. Tim rolled his eyes and then shoved hard enough to tumble Jason onto the bed and climbed on top of him.

\---

Jason didn't flinch when Nightwing and Mockingbird landed on either side of him. In fact, he continued to peer through his binoculars at the ships in the dock as though Damian wasn't looming over one shoulder while Dick actually leaned on the other. Actually, it was pretty funny how Dick couldn't lean so much as sort of drape himself awkwardly given that he was still four inches shorter than Jason. The part where Damian was somehow sidling closer while appearing completely still was making him nervous, so he lowered the binoculars and looked down at his older … something.

"Can I help you?" he drawled. Dick beamed.

"Damian and I were just having a debate about whether a couple wearing matching outfits to an event, like say the Annual Wayne Charity Spring Gala, is tacky or not," he said. Dick was many wonderful things, subtle he was not, "Damian thinks it is, but I think it can be done tastefully, like having your tie complement her dress."

Jason glanced at Damian, whose outfit almost perfectly matched Dick's, except that his armour was dark grey and chest blank . Instead he had white shoulders and white stripes running down his arms to end at the tips of his pinky fingers.

"I dunno," he drawled, "It seems to be working for you two so far. What colour will your dress be, Bluebird?"

Dick shrugged.

"Haven't decided yet. What about you and Tim? Are you two going to match?"

"Haven't decided yet," Jason parroted, shrugging him off his shoulder and lifting his binoculars again, "Don't even know if I'm going yet."

Dick snorted. Jason lowered his binoculars and narrowed his eyes at him.

"He told you didn't he?" he demanded. Dick smiled broadly.

"Nope," he said, "But you just did."

Before Jason could lunge at him, a terrifyingly strong hand grabbed his wrist and shoulders planted themselves in his back. Damian lifted him into a fireman's carry with terrifying ease. They were of similar heights, but Jason was still much bulkier. However, he had seen Damian carry Bruce before and he was still bigger than both of them. Jason struggled, but the hand Damian was holding was the one with the binoculars in it, and his empty hand couldn't do much damage where it was dangling beside Damian's hips. He felt Dick pat his ass, but Damian's arm around his knees prevented him from kicking out in retaliation. 

He debated briefly about cussing them out and then decided that would probably just make him look stupid, so he settled for making himself as much of a dead weight as possible. Despite that, Damian managed to make jumping down a stack of crates look easy. Surprisingly, a plain black streetcar awaited them at the bottom. Dick opened the truck and said,

"You know, it would look mighty suspicious for the Red Hood to be riding around with a couple of civilians. Better not take any chances."

It took Jason a second too long to figure out what he was hinting at and then it was too late as Damian dumped him into the trunk. He lashed out, but didn't have room to accomplish anything.

"Don't you dare you mother-" the trunk lid slammed shut and he was left to cuss at the darkness, hoping they could hear him through the metal and resigned to whatever stupidity they had in store for him.

\---

Tim shook hands with yet another board member's wife and then passed her off to Bruce so he could return to discreetly fidgeting with his cuff links. They were new, courtesy of Alfred and Bruce in some combination. It was no secret among the family that the Spring Gala was Alfred's affair. The man spent months getting every detail just so. This year he had been particularly fussy about their clothing choices. Well as outwardly fussy as Alfred ever got, but Tim had seen the fashion magazines and folders full of samples stacked neatly in the cave and kitchen. He had also found an entire new outfit laid out for him in his bedroom when he arrived this afternoon, complete with matching cuff links and tie pin. It was a three piece grey suit, with a vest two shades darker and a bright red tie. The cuff links were silver, inlaid with blue gems flecked with green and the tie pin was simply silver, shaped into a simple bird. 

Bruce himself was in a dark grey tuxedo with a teal cummerbund and white tie. As always, he looked rakish, amazing and untouchable. All the ladies in the room still seemed game to try, although Tim could easily tell his attention was on the reporter hovering at the edge of the room.

Movement on the second floor balcony caught Tim's eye and he turned to see Damian and Dick descending the main staircase, Dick's hand resting comfortably on Damian's forearm. Damian wore a black tuxedo, with a black vest and bright blue tie. Dick wore charcoal grey suit, with matching vest, grey shirt and off-white tie. Tim mentally rolled his eyes, remembering all Dick's unsubtle commentary about couple outfits, although he was certain this was actually Damian's doing, the secret romantic. He had thought about offering to take Jason to a tailor he knew, but when the other man never said anything on the topic of clothes, decided to leave it alone. Sometimes Jason could be a secretive pain in the ass, but he was good about mentioning when he needing things that could easily be fixed.

Then Jason appeared at the top of the stairs, having been trailing behind the other two, and Tim realized why he hadn't said anything. Jason was wearing a tuxedo of the same style as Bruce's and it fit perfectly. It was black, with a dark red cummerbund and a gun-metal grey bow tie. Tim blinked when he realized he and Jason complemented each other perfectly without being matchy, meaning Alfred had also selected Jason's outfit.

"You're welcome," Dick said in his smuggest tone when he and Damian reached the bottom of the staircase and sauntered past Tim. A heavy arm draped across Tim's shoulders.

"If you hurt him," Bruce murmured casually, "you will live out the rest of your days in an icy pit in the farthest reaches of Russia." He squeezed Tim's shoulder just tight enough to punctuate his statement appropriately and then sailed off. Tim didn't, couldn't, react because Jason had reached the middle of the stairs and met his eyes. There was a long pause as they stared at each other and then Tim impulsively stepped forward and held out his hand. The corner of Jason's mouth twitched in the faintest of smirks, but he finished his descent and took Tim's hand, allowing himself to be reeled in.

"One Cinderella comment and you sleep outside," he muttered. Tim grinned and leaned up to kiss him lightly.

"What about Sleeping Beauty? That would make the D-team fairies."

"Well, your kisses do always wake me up," Jason answered suggestively and leaned in for another, slightly longer kiss. Tim let his eyes flutter shut momentarily, but pulled back before they risked creasing their clothes.

"Can I at least get a dance first?" he asked with a flirty smile.

"Photographs first," Alfred's stern voice interrupted Jason's reply and he expertly herded them toward the big fireplace where Bruce had collected the other two. Jason's grip on Tim's hand tightened as they approached. Bruce smiled at them and stepped forward to place a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"I'm glad you made it," he said and squeezed in a way that was completely opposite the way he had warned Tim earlier. Dick looked as though he was going to say something, but was interrupted by Alfred directing them into place. Somehow they ended up with Bruce in the middle, Jason and then Damian on his left, and Tim then Dick on his right. It made no sense to TIm, but Alfred was saying something about heights, and then Bruce was pulling him to stand next to Dick, and they were all smiling and there were flashes going off.

Every single one of them has a framed copy of the picture somewhere in their home.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon about Damian


End file.
